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rainbow-femme · 3 months

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Rewatching the animated Beauty and the Beast

-Right off the bat the thing in the opening that gets me is not the possible age implication but the fact that this prince is opening his own doors and to people he’s not expecting. You’re lucky it was just an enchantress looking to test the purity of your heart and not an assassin. Just power posing with the door fully open, no guards, going “Oh hey it’s someone I don’t know! I’m going to have a conversation with them alone” before god and everybody. Of course you got cursed, your guards should have rugby tackled her before she could get her wand out

-I never liked Maurice as a kid and I still don’t. Like he’s not bad he’s just annoying to me every time he’s on screen. The wind blows and he’s dying on the side of a cliff somewhere

-It is never not funny to me that Belle promises to stay in the castle forever and then just leaves three hours later

-I love Gaston having his whole “I’m going to get Belle’s father locked up so she marries me” scheme and then she’s fully just not remotely near the town. He’s living in a high stakes drama and she’s clapping along to dancing tea cups

-Hey when Maurice goes to look for Belle he grabs a bunch of rolled up pieces of paper and protractor. Is the idea that he’s just gonna invent and build something while actively walking? Sir you spent 6 hours in a dungeon and nearly died of being in a dungeon disease, you can’t help yourself out of a wet paper bag much less get your daughter out of anywhere with an invention you made out of rocks and sticks while clawing your way through the woods because you’re dying again

-But it is funny to imagine this revolving door of Maurice and Belle trading themselves for the other until the beast is just like “hey if I let you both leave will you promise to never come back”

-Belle is such a dick at the beginning it’s so funny. “Oh there’s one place in this giant castle I can’t go? I bet he’s hiding all the really cool stuff in there and I’m going to ignore his wishes and that of the staff. Oh no, consequences, the guy who said not to come here is upset I came here! Who could have foreseen this!”

-Like it’s not bad writing, it’s her character arc that she was mainly focused on herself and her interests and pretty judgemental of people who weren’t like her, so her disrespecting someone’s boundaries because she want to sets up something she grows from, and she learns to connect with someone else on their level even if that person is different from her and she learns that people are more than their surface appearance and even an angry beast has depths if you actually get to know them and see their view of the world, and connecting with people who are different from you enriches your life. Which is why when the townsfolk later try to kill the beast because he’s different we see she’s now understood the danger of that way of thinking and is horrified

-But that’s such a funny thing to do just immediately upon entering a castle owned by a big scary beast. Day one hour one she’s like “oh boy I know where I wanna go!”

-I don’t want to be a CinemaSins and point out how improbable it is that Belle got a giant unconscious beast onto her horse when he would be hundreds of pounds. But I do want to see the scene of her doing it. I’m picturing the horse sorta laying down and the beast is on the ground like a sack of potatoes and Belle has her back against him and is pushing with her legs to try and roll him over. Or she’s got her shoulder against him and is trying to push that way but her feet keep slipping in the snow

-Oh my god I forgot they told her about the library before the beast “gives” it to her. She was already allowed to go in there and knew it existed, “giving” someone a room they had full knowledge of and access to is very funny

-But you know what if he’s the kind of guy who thinks that will work and she’s the kind of girl it works on then they’re perfect for each other. Just two people with zero social skills bumbling around a castle together, making weird decisions and the other is like “wow they’re so cute and normal”

-I love the sweeping faux crane shot during the ballroom dance. Over 30 years later and that shit still slaps, more animated movies need to act like they’re being shot and edited like live action

-Maurice really can find a way to immediately die in any situation. When he’s at home he’s fine but the second he leaves the town border he develops tuberculosis and begins losing all function in his limbs

-I’m going to be honest with you guys, I’ve seen various versions of Beauty and the Beast and every time it’s the letting Belle go scene I have the same thought: I absolutely would not have read that social interaction correctly, I would have been fully under the impression we were all aware I was running an errand and coming back later. Because if I’m Belle, and I can live in the cool castle with a friend and people who are nice to me or a town I specifically stated not liking filled with a guy who is pushy and makes me uncomfortable and people who are mean to me and zero friends, I would not have been like “oh thank god I can finally go back!”

-“You should go to him. I release you, you are no longer my prisoner” See to me that reads “We are friends and I am removing this technicality between us so you can go run out and do something that is clearly important to you.” I would not have picked up on everyone in the castle thinking I was leaving forever. I’d just show up two hours later like “boy, it’s been a day, huh?” and the beast is just laying face down on the floor in his room listening to a sad boy playlist

-But the beast is clearly part dog so I guess it’s a normal reaction for him to have

-I don’t want to victim blame, but if you have a sick dad and are equidistant between “castle where everyone likes you” and “town where everyone is mean to you” and your dying father can be cured by a nap, I feel like it’s a bit on you if bad things continue to happen in the Bad Things Happen To Me town

-Not saying she should have anticipated a mob coming to incarcerate her father but I do feel like it would be expected that the people who have been mean to you and your dad would continue to be mean to you and your dad in the Everyone Is Mean To You and Your Dad town

-Because if the forced incarceration hadn’t been an issue, they would have gone to town the next day and someone would go “Hey Belle, your dad said you were kidnapped by a beast.” And everyone would point and laugh and he’d start waving his arms and going “It was the biggest beast you ever saw! 18 feet tall and claws bigger than my head!” and people would probably suggest that the guy they all call Crazy Old Maurice may be crazy and Belle would need to prove he wasn’t. I just don’t think we would have ended up with much of a different situation in any timeline that involves going back to the town

-Ok. So. If I live in a town. And I find out there is a beast within walking distance that is sentient enough to take villagers prisoner. And this guy is like “yeah he took me and my daughter prisoner, he’s terrifying!” I’m not saying I would have been part of the mob but I do think I would be worried about there being a beast and two people he previously kept prisoner living next door. And her saying “no he’s actually very sweet” would sound like those people with exotic pets who get their faces eaten by their pet tiger. Like yes they’re wrong but Belle also thought he was scary and violent until she’d been there a number of hours. I feel like if instead of giving herself up she went to town and asked for help and they created a mob to get her father back she would not have been against the idea so it’s not wholly their fault for having the same idea

-“Is it dangerous?” “No, no, he’d never hurt anyone” Every owner of a dog who wants to bite you so so bad

-So when Belle and her father are alone she is clearly telling him that the beast let her go and is kind. When asked about the beast by the town, Maurice starts yelling about how he’s the most terrifying monster in the world. Belle has to show the beast to back up her father’s claims to try and save him for the second? third? time. And then they’re locked up and she says “this is all my fault” and this man does not for a second contradict her or take blame at all. “Yeah I can’t believe you specifically caused this mess.”

“We won’t rest until he’s good and deceased.” I know there are only so many words that rhyme with beast but that’s such a funny line in a bloodlust song. I will not rest until this animal has been declared legally dead by the state

-“We will fight even though the danger just increased” I’m obsessed with all the words they had to use to rhyme with beast

-It’s so funny that this is canonically France and he is canonically a prince. They didn’t make him a duke or a lord he is directly related to the royal family and in the line of succession. Likely not the dauphin because they wouldn’t have sent him to run a castle in the countryside away from the center of politics so probably a younger son but still, this guy is part of the royal family. They didn’t have to explicitly state this is France but they do, and they reference the baroque period so it’s after the construction of Versailles. The beast is actively being stabbed to death while sentient furniture watches and at the same time his family are canonically pissing on the walls and floors of their own home

-Oh my god the beast is brooding on a chaise. Did he drag it over to the window just so he could dramatically sit on his chaise and stare longingly out at the rain? Absolute break up mood

-He’s also in a different outfit that isn’t the fancy one or his every day one, he went and changed into a breakup outfit. Important to note the breakup outfit includes a cape and what he was previously wearing did not. He chose to put on a cape as part of his breakup outfit

-So Gaston points his arrow at the beast. The beast acknowledges it then looks away. Gaston then fires and hits him and he reacts all surprised and angry that it hurt like my dude you let him shoot you with an arrow, what did you think that experience would be

-It is so wild that Gaston assumes the beast is in love with Belle. Like yeah he’s right but what a wild assumption to make when you’re not even sure this thing comprehends human speech. Again my thought would be he’s attached to her like a dog is attached to its owner, I would not see a big furry animal and be like “this thing is fully sentient and feels romantic attraction to human women”. Yeah he’s wearing clothes but still that feels like a leap. Pointing at a dog in a sweater following its owner and yelling “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

-The beast’s arc is partly him controlling his temper, and we see him want to kill Gaston but controls himself and lets him go, immediately resulting in his own death. Gotta be honest I feel like less self control would have been helpful in that specific scenario

-I didn’t remember the blood spray after the beast is stabbed followed by the stab wound bleeding a good amount of blood. Are there other Disney princess movies with onscreen blood? I think in Mulan we see blood oozing out through clothes from an injury but that’s the only other one I can think of. Eugene gets pretty bloodlessly stabbed

-Best scene in the movie: The beast floats up in the air, actively transforms into a human in front of Belle, stands up, says “Belle, it’s me!” She then squints at him, touches his hair a bit, squints at his face, and when she recognizes his eyes she goes “It is you!” Ma’am what the hell else did you think was happening. If you didn’t recognize his eyes would you have just been like “Hmmm I dunno…”

-Ok so at the end there is an entire royal court watching them dance. Again I don’t want to be a CinemaSins I just want to see the missing scene. Like did he explain what happened to him? If yes then again I want to see that conversation of him explaining to his family how he was literally transformed into a literal beast for the last ten years and they had no idea this was happening to their family member. If no, imagine just going back to being a prince after 10 years as a beast and you just have to pretend like everything has been normal this whole time. I want a sequel that’s just the human beast reintegrating not only back into society but French royal society, which was notorious for having some of the most intricate and complicated social etiquette in all of Europe

-The final shot is a stained glass window of them with a prominent rose. Now in the original he had a whole rose garden he was very attached to, so that makes sense. But I feel like this beast specifically would have only negative connotations with roses and that window would probably be seen as a little tasteless given the circumstances. “It’s a rose! You know, the physical manifestation of a curse that was clearly quite upsetting for you for nine years and roughly 360 days, reminding you daily of your flaws! Isn’t that fun?”

“Original score by Alan Menken” Look up his IMDB, if you live in at least the US this man has written the score to your entire life

#long post #I’ve been called out for being long winded so here is your warning #beauty and the beast #disney

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sitp-recs · 1 year

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Some Erised Recs…

I wanted to post this yesterday but fell asleep while reviewing my blurbs lol so here’s my first 2023 reclist! Just wanted to do a lil something to celebrate these authors and artists as I did not include any Erised fics on my 2022 reclist. Hope you enjoy before the reveals, don’t forget to give these some love. You can find more lovely recs here by @thehoneybeet and here by @epitomereally

Check all Erised 2022 works!

Fic:

🍺 everything you should say by @candybarrnerd (E, 7.4k) - lush rebound fuck buddies to something else, hot and tentative, love the uncomplicated matter-of-fact tone here, sexy and refreshing!

They're not friends. But when Draco offers help, Harry takes it.

🐺 Service Bell by @shiftylinguini (E, 8k) - est relationship but make it complicated, obsessed with this nuanced pining wolf!Draco with his sharp edges and soft heart

Draco is: a werewolf, living in a cabin in the woods, minding his own business, and never going to buy plaid because he's not that much of a fucking cliche (yet). He's also counting down the days until he sees Harry again.

🎤 Meddling, Menswear, and Magic by @writcraft (M, 19k) - I’m utterly besotted with their voices, the superb level of banter oh my god. I wanna live inside this fic’s dialogue and have it for breakfast thank

Draco Malfoy is working in a job he hates and avoiding the magical world entirely, but he really is fine. When a bequest from Severus Snape brings Draco back to a much-changed magical world, he must find his place within it and navigate his growing attraction to Harry Potter in the process.

🐍 In The Company Of Serpents by @corvuscrowned (E, 25k) - an instant fave, fabulous characterization, perfect slow burn, top notch ust and some of the hottest smut I’ve read lately, so satisfying yum 🔥

There’s something wrong with the serpents at the Greengrass Ophidiarium. Luckily, a certain Parselmouth just might be able to help.

⛷️ Historians by @oknowkiss (E, 30k) - fake dating goodness with holiday vibes, the right amount of angsty pining and a gorgeous Swiss background. Just what I needed to cheer me up on a snowy day

It’s the Dumbledore’s Army Reunion Holiday, and Harry’s found himself in hot water with his friends once again, after telling them he has a boyfriend he definitely does not have. In an attempt to fix things, he’s made it his colleague on Level Nine, Draco Malfoy’s problem too. Featuring a ski chalet in Switzerland, a pair of bunk beds, and an agreement that should’ve been simple, were it not for all the bloody feelings getting in the way.

🏉 All Things Go by @sorrybutblog (E, 32k) - an enchanting 8th year romance with strong Heartstopper vibes👨‍🍳💋 our boys are so wonderfully awkward and young and lovely, my heart is melting! And the scorching UST? Superb

Draco’s back at Hogwarts by court order. Harry’s back for no particular reason at all. Some things change, some stay the same. Neither expects to spend eighth-year living in close quarters, playing rugby (poorly), staying up late, sneaking around, and finally figuring it all out.

⏳Everything is Relative to You by @thehoneybeet (E, 43k) - really brilliant take on time travel/multiverse, inventive concept exploring star-crossed lovers dynamics. It’s about the yearning!!!

Potter was supposed to have lived. Draco is certain of this. That Potter would no longer walk the earth was tantamount to the sun moving west to east across the sky. If only he could have stopped this from happening, if he’d have known… It comes to him as ideas often did: too late.

Art:

🦉Birdwatching for Beginners by dustmouth (G) - so very warm and sweet, I love the cozy vibes, the soft flirting and the ultimate Wizarding fashion as per this artist’s usual

Draco does his best to sneak out early from Ginny and Luna's Christmas party, only to be cornered by a drunk Harry Potter.

🦄 Light in the Dark by @creeeee (G) - stunning art, romantic and evocative. I love the palette and detailed outfits, want those capes in my wardrobe right now

Draco and Harry find themselves encountering more than they anticipated while performing a divine blessing within the deep thicket of the Forbidden Forest.

👔 Routinely Yours (G) by @apriicat - the softest domestic bliss we deserve, gorgeous characters (long-haired Draco!), tender intimacy, lots of cozy cuddling and boyfriending stuff

Morning routines are the best with you.

❄️ Snapshot of Moments by @drarrydoodles (E) - stunning illustrations from daily life scenes, so rich in details and full of emotion. I love how each scene comes with a short description, and the nsfw one is!!!!! 😳🔥

A snapshot of moments in Harry and Draco's relationship.

🎹 The sound of your heart by @pato-roldnart (G) - a charming and moving musicians AU, great storytelling and the prettiest boys finding inspiration together 🎵

Harry is requested to perform a musical piece for a Great Serpent, it can’t be that hard, right? What he does not expect is having to work with an annoying, distracting, good-looking Draco Malfoy.

🛌 Two Wizards, One Bed by dustmouth (G) - soft, hilarious and adorable as usual, this made me giggle the whole night! Draco’s grumpy blushing face is my fave

Harry and Draco are trapped together in a safe house. Fiery discourse ensues (intercourse, more like...)

🪢 This time, tomorrow by @bluebutter-art (M) - talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique etc etc when I tell you my heart missed a beat seeing this beauty, I’m!!!!!

Two souls, bound by fate, destined to meet again and again and again.

#drarry reclist #Erised 2022 recs

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pandorafallz · 5 months

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Vampire AU | A night at Hometree

As predicted, the rain got to the point where the return was not an option, even for the early return and everyone had returned to the shelter of Hometree with their work or to play games and settle for peaceful tasks and since most of the humans were still getting to know Hometree and the general location, they didn’t wander out either and stuck close to their assigned jobs.

A few children had gotten interested in some of the newcomers and were playfully asking questions and convincing them to play a few games with them. Jerome had put together a makeshift soccer ball made of dried Yerik Bladder that had some weight to it- enough to feel like a kickable ball in the gravity of Pandora—and Harper had taught a group of kids how to play. A new game for the children and enough players, Jake reasoned that it allowed some of the more stressed parents to get a break by the fire with some tea.

“You know, we could give them coloured strips to tuck into their loincloths for each side?” Kendra spoke to Harper, watching the kids score.

“You think they need that? I think them just having fun is the goal. Turning it into a competition is another thing if you put real sides to it.” Harper mused, snorting as Ashley failed at dribbling before the ball was gone by a quicker teen.

It was remarkable, as Jake watched, to see how quickly the children had picked up the sport though his main gripe about it was the fact Kendra had introduced it as Football, not Soccer. She must have some Britishness to her to be calling it that. American football, he knew wouldn’t do well with the Na’vi; it was far more violent than kicking a ball around but still…. a good portion of humans here came from America. He would have thought they’d use the same names for shit to not confuse the Na’vi.

Kendra patted Harper’s arm, bending down to pick up her basket of tiny (relative to Na’vi) animal bones then headed his way.

“Did you live in England for a bit, by any chance?” He couldn’t help but ask as she passed.

Kendra paused, giving him an odd look. “What makes you say that?”

“You called it Football, not Soccer.” Jake pointed out, “We all know Soccer is the correct term.”

“The British invented its current form, so they have the right to call it football,” Kendra spoke, her eyes twinkling though her tone disapproving. “You Americans just changed British Rugby a little and slapped a new name on it by calling it football and got enough of your population to believe it.” She said.

Jake blew a raspberry. “It is better.”

“Well, given your version of the sport isn’t being played right now on this planet, I think it’s safe to say that Football is the correct term that the Na’vi can understand. Playing Ball with the feet.” She said with a victorious grin. “And yes, I was born in England. My grandparents moved out of Japan to the UK when my mother was seven after the 2100 Earthquake and Tsunami. It was rough but they made it work.”

Jake hummed, wincing a little but she just carried on to deliver the bones towards the far ring of weavers which had grown as young adults were putting together new clothes of near-complete works. As soon as the bones were delivered, there was a mild scramble for them to get a good look and to see if they were suitable. Many looked like they’d be going to rider’s flight visors or women’s shirts.

It was perhaps reflex that Jake dropped his spindle of thread as a shadow quickly appeared in his peripheral. His hands rose automatically before—

Bam!

“Fuck!” His hands stung painfully, the ball launching off elsewhere by rebound but at a lesser speed. His skin tingled and he could feel the crawling burn rise to the surface of his palms.

“Oh my god, Jake!” Harper’s voice was muffled by a few others.

He hissed a little, his palms turning redder and redder but his heart hammered out of sheer surprise of it but he sucked in a few calming breaths. An accident, it was just an accident. Fuck that it was him in its way though.

“Back off guys,” Nadine’s voice called, her presence appearing beside him, her cold limb coming to his wrist to check. “Let’s help him back to Mo’at. He’ll need something cold to reduce swelling.”

“I will help.”

Jake’s head turned up in surprise though the stinging to see Neytiri of all people appear from the depth of Hometree and then crouch next to him in concern.

“May I?”

“Okay.” He leaned into her, allowing her to scoop him up but… he found that he didn’t quite mind and it made his heart flutter. She was gentle but swift—also her necklaces barely covered her breasts which made him realise his elbow was no doubt digging into those wonderful parts of the female body. He debated for a moment if moving his arm was worth bringing it to attention or just ignore. Na’vi clothing had some rules but not as strict or as prude as humans. The body, especially female breasts wasn’t sexualised so… he reasoned that ignoring was the best course of action and keep his hands to himself. It was his elbow that was in contact given the type of hold she had him in.

Plus his hands fucking hurt. He didn’t need another injury and…lest not from inappropriate behaviour.

But, before he knew it, he was being set down on a mat where the den was empty of the resident Tsahìk who was no doubt attending elsewhere. It crossed his mind that Mo’at couldn’t spend all her days in the den but it was amusing for a second to think that. Like every human kid thinking that their teacher lived in the school.

“I will fetch water. Keep your hands elevated.” Neytiri said.

He nodded, keeping his hand sup though he didn’t wait long before she returned with a bowl of water and set it down in front of him. He sunk his burning hands into it, almost withdrawing it by the sharpness of the water but breathed through the discomforting throb. It was like his hands had little heartbeats.

But, it did feel a little better as the intensity of the burning began to recede, he swirled his hands in the basin for a moment and felt the flow of the water between his fingers.

“Feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you.” He sighed out heavily. “Just…a little surprised.”

“Hm, you have fast reflexes,” Neytiri remarked, eyeing the cups before she found the new ingredients of what she was looking for. “Especially reflecting something that you didn’t see coming.” If he didn’t know any better, he was sure she almost sounded impressed.

“I saw a shadow in the corner of my eye, I guess my marine reflexes kicked in.” He reasoned off casually.

“Still, its markings are of that of a warrior or a hunter.” She mused.

“Well, we haven’t started lessons yet. Can I start coming over in my avatar more often than every other if it’s for training days? I can’t train as a warrior in my human body and… I don’t think it’s effective training if it’s every other visit that I get trained.”

Neytiri eyes him for a moment, contemplating for a moment. “No, at least not at Hometree. I can suggest to my father that I will come on your days away from Hometree to continue your training.”

“You will need days of rest if you are to care for your human body.” Mo’at’s voice echoed, making them both jump.

Jake almost tipped the water out of the bowl, leaning up from his slouch and staring up at the Tsahìk in alarm. Neytiri simply jumped to her feet with her tail high and ears perked before they softened back.

“But, that is a good suggestion. You should talk to your camp about it as your absence or training may affect your chores required. Now, hands?” Mo’at requested.

Jake held his hands out, allowing her to examine.“I suppose. N’deh says I’m not ready to hunt, only fish, that I need to learn to See the world around me or to start Seeing.”

“Did he now?” Mo’at didn’t sound…disapproving, which often would be in someone’s tone for that question. “You do not see?”

“I don’t…know what that means,” Jake admitted. “No one’s explained it's...signficance to me. I think the others assumed I knew or knew enough at this point. Felt…kinda awkward to ask them.” It was like not getting someone’s name at a group when instructions happened but it was too deep into a conversation to stop and ask.

Mo’at glanced at Neytiri for a moment. “It is…not something that is strictly taught. It is felt. A connection to one another or as N’deh implied, a connection to life and Eywa herself. You do not believe in Eywa? Not her gifts around her? What she provide even for you?”

Jake refrained from shrinking under her sharp gaze. “Belief is...is a strong word. I do not…fully believe on the account of me…not seeing such proof in understandable qualities I can understand.” He said carefully, “Humans love proof of concepts to believe. I’m sure you know Grace and the scientist’s habits in that regard.”

Mo’at tipped her head. “I have…seen their difficulties in acceptance. But…I’ve come to realise with you sky people that…you hold onto proof far too tightly, you demand more proof despite evidence. The Dreamwalker couple of your camp have passed through the eye of Eywa and returned with new bodies. Is that not enough proof?”

Jake frowned curiously. Mulling her words over. There was no…denying the possibility but… he could feel that there was some part of him unconvinced. That there was some scientific reason for it.

“It’s a culture thing to deny like that.”

All three heads turned to see Ruby in the den entryway, her arm up and her hand bleeding. She looked a little sheepish having been overhearing but Neytiri moved first to offer a space to her and reached for her arm to examine.

“In what way?” Mo’at asked, “I fail to understand why sky people hold onto distrust, even here and for you, Jakesully to be out here for over a month.”

“It’s a culture thing, Mo’at,” Ruby said tightly. “You don’t know Earth. What daily life is like? Belief has to come with scepticism for survival. If a child comes to you for help, claiming that their mother or sibling is sick then that is either a child genuine or a child tasked to lure someone away to a bad fate. Happened to my second cousin once, they found his skeleton six months later under a bridge.”

“I’m sorry,” Jake said, sympathetically.

“You cannot trust at face value. Trust on Earth can kill.” Ruby sucked in a heavy breath, letting Neytiri wipe the blood. “That carried into other aspects of life in our culture. Someone might be playing around, making a joke or simply lying. If you believe that, then you’re considered a fool. Someone to be laughed at or ridiculed at.”

“It is linked back to your closed hearts, then,” Mo’at concluded from her words. “I am sorry for the loss of your family member. Truly.”

Ruby just nodded, “Thank you.”

Neytiri continued to tend to Ruby’s hand quietly, though a simple binding was used as the cut wasn’t too deep or long for stitches. Mo’at set Jake’s hands back into the water.

“I also think humans don’t like their beliefs challenged.” Jake mused, “It pushed us into denial very quickly and we get defensive.”

“Pride?” Ruby suggested.

“That too.” Jake wasn’t a fool to dismiss that motion. “Like…I get why the Na’vi believe. It’s their culture and I understand the concept that they can bond and connect and all but… humans don’t have that. We have no tswin. We have no foundation of which that belief can grow.”

“You need proof,” Neytiri said simply. “You need to see her around her, to hear her in the wind or to hear her voice in your ear…”

Mo’at spared a quiet moment of contemplation, her lips pursed tightly and her brow pulled in then spoke to Neytiri in Na’vi. Jake caught fragments but their words were quicker than he could translate. Ruby though looked to be following along, examining her bandage to look busy.

Mo’at didn’t look thrilled by a suggestion coming from Neytiri, though Jake for some reason held the Tsahìk’s gaze before something looked decided.

“We can…show you means of finding a connection with Eywa, but for now we do not know how to show sky people. With your Dreamwalkers, it is possible. If enough of you were convinced, would convincing the others be easier?”

Jake spared a glance to Ruby who frowned, uncertain but looking curious enough to not shy away.

“Possibly, but…how?” Ruby asked carefully.

“Tsaheylu. Nothing more. Your Dreamwalkers can bond with the Great Mother that your native bodies cannot. However, the sites are forbidden for outsiders….unless permission of either Tsahìk or Olo'eyktan is granted.” Neytiri spoke.

“You don’t look thrilled, Mo’at.” Ruby remarked, “You’re not for it?”

“I am protective of our sacred sites. It is the duty of Tsahìk to ensure the sanity of our ancestral sites.” Mo’at spoke. “It is not a…easy suggestion but it is one that makes sense and has plausibility to show you our belief.”

“Four Dreamwalkers, both myself and you. No one brings any equipment but their own Dreamwalker bodies.” Neytiri suggested. “They would not offend to bring unsanctioned items with them.”

“Do we…have to do this?” Ruby asked next.

“No, the choice is yours.”

Ruby relaxed a little. “I’ll…talk to Zane about it.” She got to her feet, pushing the long plat of hair off her lap then over her shoulder and padded out quickly.

Neytiri watched her leave before something clicked, her head tilting away though Jake was surprised she looked at him. “Have they been told of your blood demons yet?”

“No. I was gonna wait till morning to tell them. It’s…not gonna be easy.” Then he snorted, “You know, getting us to believe in Eywa is probably gonna be far easier than getting them to believe in vampires.”

Mo’at considered. “That may be, but both require the sky people to change their beliefs. I suppose you may understand our frustration at your disbelief.”

Jake hummed. That was…not an unfair statement. Accurate. He knew he was missing the pieces that can’t just be learned so simply. He flexed his fingers under the cool water, lifting them out as Neytiri gestured but she looked satisfied to see the redness was less intense.

He was soon cleared from the healing den but his usage of sore hand were to be kept to a minimum so Neytiri set him next to the fires to watch the cooks and Nadine work. She was happy to wheel him closer and help sort through fresh, live Teylu from the dead that would be returned to Eywa rather than be served to the people. Apparently, children picked many without seeing the harm of being too rough in their harvesting.

“Teylu is safe for humans,” Nadine said, “Rich in protein and apparently sweet as well, but they’re going to steam them with… some vegetables. I’m managing the ones for humans since they added a herb that’s not safe for humans into their Teylu’s food prior to being cooked. It adds to the flavour but I’d rather not be on the loo all night.”

Jake snorted, staring a little at the giant grub in his hands. Massive in his hands but…in the Na’vi they looked small. The Teylu were at least ten centimetres long and very fat, but seemed to be curled up and trying to search for its natural food, not realising it was going to be his dinner. It…was uneasy. He didn’t like the idea of eating bugs but…this was normal for the Na’vi. He was gonna have to grit his teeth and bear it.

“I’m going to wrap them in edible leaves. Lots of veg so the crunch will not be the teylu.” Nadine assured, clearly sensing his discomfort. “The flavour will make up for the texture.”

He hoped so.

The humans stuck together as dinner was handed out, not as close as Jake had been before to the fire, but more off to the left their smaller size made them feel puny sitting next to so many big people so, a group made sense. Jake was carried and sat between Morgan and Nadine.

Nadine was vague in her description of the food when Mingxia asked what it was when she started to eat. Neither Ruby nor Ashely seemed to add to it for clarification and both ate without questioning it; they knew what they were eating. Ruby with a little more upturned nose until she actually got to taste then her attitude lightened up.

Jake eyed his lead wrap for a moment, then took a solid breath and lifted his mask for the first bite.

The taste was…better than Jake expected and he didn’t let his intrusive thoughts go off and gross him out. The flavours were a mix between sweet and savoury with a surprising kick of spice that tingled at his palette. His stomach rumbled for more and he was handed a few more when his first was done.

“This is amazing. Thank you, Nad.”

Nadine smiled around her bite, “The other cooks are wonderful teachers. I might see about what other things we have that might work. Teylu don’t eat spice but they do marinade in it. It’s fascinating how they basically marinate it alive first by letting them consume selective herbs and then steaming them before full digestion.”

“Have you never had Teylu before?” Neytiri moved from her place to join behind him. “Not at your camp?”

Morgan hummed, shaking his head as an answer. “Jerome has a slight phobia with caterpillars or…insects with a similar form. Apparently when he was seven, his older sister pulled maggots out of a dead pigeon and put them in his bed because he stole her toy and refused to give it back. He can tolerate them now but he won’t eat them.”

“Plus, plenty of fish and meat with our small numbers. So we don’t need to rely on Teylu.” Jake reasoned, taking another bite after an inhale of safe breath.

Neytiri lent down, sniffing a little. “What did you put in that? It smells…different. Hotter.”

“Just some Capsaicin-based fruits,” Nadine said, much to Neytiri’s horror who lent away from his leaf wrap. “Gives it a nice kick.”

“You eat the burning plants?!”

“Yep,” Nadine gave the woman a grin, “Humans love spice, we’ve made Capsaicin-based sauces called hot sauce, and we’ve had wars over the spice trade because they’re so desired. It went global. Na’vi can’t eat Capsaicin like us. They can tolerate Menthol-based plants a little, like…their version of mint but nothing stronger.” Nadine added to the group. "I bet that some of our spices could probably kill a Na'vi but we'd be fine."

Neyriri eyed their Teylu rolls more wearily.

Ashley cocked her head. “You added capsaicin to mine too?” though she looked down thoughtfully but she looked very weary. “I…feel a kick but I’m not suffering.”

Nadine’s eyes widened for a moment, “Oh god, I forgot that the avatars—wait, you’re good? No burn-y-burn-y mouth? I definitely gave you the human version. I didn’t think….”

Ashley nodded, ears flicking as she took another test bite. “It…kinda tastes sharp, some heat but nothing that’s hurting or burning. It’s…normal. Could do with some more spice.”

“You still have human fragments in your avatar’s DNA. We may have a better tolerance for us in our other bodies.” Jake pointed out, though he felt a deep sense of relief. “Oh, that’s wonderful news. If we get more spicy plants, we can make our own hot sauce. I have pepper and chilli seeds in Tommy’s seed collection. I bet we could get a few seeds and get them growing. Add more to our variety. We could do camp trades.”

The group seemed to perk up at that.

“That…sounds like a good suggestion. Our areas are very remote to yours.” Harper said, eyeing the Teylu thoughtfully. “We have found a good few plants. We can take pictures and show them when we’re next here. Do you have a radio?”

“No,” Morgan said, “but I knew a few places we can get one. There are a few abandoned link shacks we can raid. I’ve seen a few there we can repurpose any of them.”

“Abandoned? How many?”

“We used a virus to wipe Hell’s Gate’s server of Link Shack locations. We should have free pickings.” Nadine said.

“Not entirely.” Ruby shook her head. “Dr Augustine had memorised a portion of the link shacks. The ones we stole were from the recovered list.”

“Which shacks? I can cross them off as potential targets.” Nadine mused.

“Site 7, which was the one you stole, Jake,” Ruby added to him.

Jake just grinned. A little victory of making the RDA pissed off at him was very good. Still, shame it was recovered so soon that they couldn’t struggle for longer on what he took.

“Then… Site twenty-six, thirty-two, Thirty-six, thirty-seven, forty-seven….sixteen and seventeen.” Ruby considered, counting on her fingers as she spoke. “We stole site thirty-six and thirty-seven’s modules and remote lab. Two other groups are stationed at Thirty-two and sixteen, so those are to be avoided. Dr Augustine’s favourite link shack is at Site 26 in the floating mountain.”

“Ooh, that’s a tempting site to go for. I bet that shack is kitted out with the best stuff.” Harper mused, “Head of SciOps, she probably has position perks to get what she wants in that. Last year, they refurbished it with plans of adding another few modules or a remote lab like what Ruby stole. It was put on hold after there was some sort of crash. Dr Augustine, Captain Hale and the pilot survived.”

Jake’s thrill of raiding link shacks dampened the more he heard. It was a tempting target and if Augustine wasn’t a vampire, he would have been one-hundred per cent down for raiding it and to annoy the fuck out of her by stealing all the good shit out of it for their needs; they’ll just get a replacement at the end of the day.

But… she was a vampire. A dangerous creature that… he wasn’t willing to put their neck into the noose, even if it was for their needs.

“You will leave Grace’s home as it is.” Neytiri spoke first, “It is quite the distance, after all, and high in the mountains. It would be in your best interest to avoid it as one would with a Palulukan den.” Her eyes fixed them with a heavy stare, one at a time to ensure each of them nodded. “Good. There is another metal home you are to avoid as it appears to be closeted to your home, Ruby….” Neytiri mentioned, directing this to the woman in question, going on to derive it and its appearance. Jake realised she was talking about the vampire home he had heard about. Another wise choice.

“In a few weeks’ time, we’ll have weed,” Nadine announced once they had settled into a lapse following Neytiri’s words.

“Bullshit.” Harper scoffed.

“Let’s not dismiss this so quickly, Trin.” Mingxia elbowed the soldier, “Go on, and please… for the love of god not be kidding.”

“Nope. Thanks to Jake’s dearly departed brother, we have the glorious seeds planted and growing as we speak. Far faster than anticipated but growing fast indeed. Jerome thinks the first batch will be in two weeks’ time.” Nadine said gleefully, though she reached to pat Jake’s arm softly.

“Add that to a trades list we have yet to get up,” Kendra said, her eyes alight. “It’s been so long since I hit a joint and it was shit. We need to see if there’s local flora that’ll work with it. Enhance the experience.”

“I can have a look.” Ashley said, “Tomorrow once we’re back.”

“I’ll help,” Mingxia added in.

Soon enough the people began to vanish away for their hammocks. Jerome and Kim seemed to vanish up as well with the rest of the people with a brief good night. The humans stayed around, waiting to see what arrangements could be made for them.

“Not all of the sky people are suited to hammocks.” Tsu’tey’s voice was questioning as he spoke to Eytukan, standing close to being heard. “Nor did we expect them all to spend the night.”

“Their size makes them suitable for a few to share a single hammock, they can pair up. Those who cannot have a hammock may simply rest in the healing den for ease of movement.” Eytukan decided,

“I guess, Nad and I are going in the healing den. You can put your arm and leg on charge.”

Nadine hummed, moving to find her bag that was hung up near the spire and pulled it off and carried it with her to the healing den. Ashely didn’t bother with the hammocks for some reason but Jake accepted her help up and allowed her to carry him up and set him onto a mat, avoiding Nadine pulling off her arm.

“Thank you,” he nodded to her. “No hammock?”

Ashley nodded at his thanks, as she pulled a mat from the side though shook her head at the question. “I’d rather stick to the floor for now. I don’t…want to leave my avatar there. Even if Kendra volunteered to small-spoon me.”

“Alright.” Jake adjusted his legs out on the mat and then lay back, making sure to test the seal on his mask was good. He was gonna wake up with rim marks, that was certain.

“Night.” Nadine yawned.

Grace should have expected the visit long before the two came to her quarters directly, although she had heard noise isolation headphones on, their steps were easy to identify when they crossed the 5-meter threshold and opened up her door without knocking as well but Grace didn’t look up from her datapad to greet them.

“You know, knocking in polite.” She reminded, reaching up to remove her headgear. “I could have had company or be in a far more awkward predicament.”

Mansk moved in, shutting the door after Walker. “Your attempt to get out of Site 26 has failed. Selfridge has reconsidered his options. He wants you there in two weeks maximum.”

Grace groaned. “Asshole.”

“We could steal the modules and set them up with 43’s RoLab we have hidden away. That way, they can’t put you there.” Walker suggested. “That’s the simplest option. It could be blamed on the people who took off on us.”

“There are at least six spare modules in Hell’s Gate mass storage bay. They’ll just bring them with them if the original modules are gone.” Mansk answered. “We can brainstorm ideas but let’s just tackle the fact that your food situation is our first priority, even for a few days.”

“Trudy will be the pilot, I’m assuming.” Grace sucked on her teeth for a moment. It wasn’t a bad choice; she did like Trudy. “but…it can’t be more than one vampire going out there with me. I can’t feed on the humans I have as well; that’ll draw up more suspicion and I won’t have as much access to drugs to up their blood count in the meantime.”

“We can stop using blood bags ourselves unless we have to, there’s a supply run every week the pilots would do. We can send the bags through her to you or you’ll have to run back to Hell’s Gate to eat, the latter not ideal.” Mansk decided, coming to lean against the door.

“We could decorate the bags with opaque medical covering. Make it look like dietary supplements that you need.” Walker added. “No one would think about it. If the humans of your group ask and wonder then you have a plausible reason.”

“I can last three days without feeding but I’d need two bags to satisfy for another three days. That’s if I don’t expand my energy with my abilities.” She could do the math easily to see it would be quite the stretch on their supply and more so on the long-term side of things. “If I have to, I’ll get back to Hell’s Gate. I can convince the humans to not question if they notice.”

“Who will you have with you?”

“Norm Spellman. He’s a new face as well which may help the cause. I could have a second researcher but… with him and the pilot, that’s less eyes on me. I can cover enough with another driver beside myself.” She did consider a few faces to join. One bright and idealistic soul was Bibi Levson but she wasn’t yet due here for a few months on the next resupply but she had heard good things of the woman’s work. Also rumours the woman was easily excitable about Pandoran plants but also, she may have a fangirl which would be awkward as hell so she’d need to get the girl saturated with work and less about her.

“Two humans. Good.” Mansk scratched his jaw thoughtfully.

“I’ll talk to Shen about getting the ‘suppliants’ logged into the standard request rather than it being flagged as contraband. Dr Solis can get the packs ready. You can bulk-take some in advance as well.” Walker mused.

“I’ll start getting the staff prepped tomorrow.” Things hopefully should be ready and stable by the time she’d have to go. She still wanted to talk to Hale about getting her memories back but, she could another time.

She waved the two out of her room, reaching for her headphones. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”

Of course, the peace didn’t last for more than ten minutes before there was a flutter of steps at her door but it was the little heartbeat of the baby that stopped Grace from dismissing whoever it was from interrupting her again.

“It’s open.” She called, though she smiled a little at the sight of the sleeping baby as Paz came in though her expression fell as Paz looked worried. “Everything okay?” Grace set her headset back off to the side.

“His more vampire side is starting to become more obvious,” Paz said, coming to sit straight on Grace’s bed to better support her child. “He’s teething and… I think they’re sharp teeth. Not blunt human teeth.”

Grace’s eyes flickered down to the infant, her eyebrows pulling in before she leaned forward. “Which makes feeding him a lot harder too.”

Paz’z hand came to her breasts. “Yep, I am well aware.”

“He can’t be on your milk forever. His diet… may be more human than ours but… he won’t suit for fruit or veg if his teeth are sharp.” A meat eater, most likely seemed the next logical conclusion that made sense for his biology. His body would need more than blood.

“I was thinking that but… where are we to get his food without questions? People will wonder why he won’t eat fruit. Hell, if anyone sees him licking some bloody meat, they’re gonna be concerned.”

“Humans can eat Hexepede meat, maybe we could get him onto Pandoran meat?” Grace suggested.

“We can’t consume Pandoran blood, Grace. I doubt he’ll be able to stomach it.” Paz stroked her son’s hair cautiously.

Grace sighed but Paz wasn’t incorrect. It wasn’t for the lack of trying but for some reason, they couldn’t keep animal blood from the wildlife down. She had tried, Mansk had tried when he first turned and even Choi had tried. It was weird, the blood was more or less the same in iron-based composition, with the same necessary proteins and nutrients but…they just couldn’t keep it down.

“He still has his human side, that’s still vastly more prominent.” Grace tried, “We should at least try. If not, we can rethink on blood redistribution with me. Soak what meat the mess has in blood and let him have that.”

Paz wrinkled her nose but nodded. “I suppose. But…his breathing is also different. The gaps between his breaths are longer now. I… I think he’s becoming less dependent on oxygen, or at least is more tolerant of lower oxygen levels.”

“His fingers not changed colour?”

“No, his heart is normal, skin nice and pink.” Paz tugged a little hand into view, Mile’s little hands coming to clench around her index finger.

“Tomorrow night, have Solis take a look at his lungs. Medical scanners may show something. If his lungs are different, we should see if he’s able to breathe Pandoran air—not actually test it!” she added at the alarmed expression on Paz’s face. “I mean a simple biopsy should reveal. We won’t hurt him but…if he’s caught out; you’re caught out, you need to know if he’s safe to leave at a moment’s notice. A mask won’t fit him until he’s about six unless you hand-make him masks.” She clarified.

Paz’s expression didn’t waver, looking down at the baby in concern. “I can’t leave him with my human friends when his teeth erupt. His bites will be less than amusing. He won’t understand…”

“I can’t be around as much but… Maze or the other scientists would be at your disposal.” She didn’t trust Shen or Hendrick within ten paces of a baby, she cared little about Mansk or Walker on their childcare expertise. Hale would be another option but the woman was the new MineOps head. Less time on her hands.

“If I could join you at Site 26…”

Grace moved from her desk to sit beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Right now, I can’t be sure that’s a good idea. I need to know how one vampire works remotely with a small supply drop. Another with a half-human…might be too much.” She couldn’t say no, but she couldn’t say yes either.

Paz slouched a little, shifting Miles to rest against her shoulder. “I’m just…worried. If his vampire abilities kick in early…he could start climbing the walls…or morph or…something.”

“If he’s babysat with a vampire, then we’ll stop him from doing anything in the company of humans,” Grace assured.

“Okay… but can you look after him now? I need to eat.”

Grace opened her arms for the near-five-month-old. “Of course.” She wouldn’t say no to this. He was deep asleep and a comforting weight of warmth. She had fed a little earlier, so she was good for now.

Jake woke groggily the next morning, his mouth feeling dry and a weight on his stomach. The rim of his mask dug straight in to the side of his face which promised a lingering ache. It took a moment to fully wake up, blinking to see Nadine was using his stomach as a pillow and had somehow wiggled across the den floor to her current position without her other arm or leg still.

Jake tapped on the front of her mask to wake her.

“No.” She grumbled.

“You’re on me. Get off.” He grumbled.

“Comfy.”

“I’m not.” He tapped on her mask until she got annoyed enough to sit up and flash him a middle finger then slunked across the den to retrieve her limbs.

Jake tested his neck, feeling the relieving cracks as the pressure changed then waited.

Tsu’tey was the first to come in. His eyes remained to the still avatar on the mat. “We’ve got Pa’li ready to take you back to your camp, Jakesully. Ikran will take the other camps back.”

“Have they left yet?” Jake asked.

“No, but they’re preparing to. One team is waiting for the Dreamwalker to stir first.”

Jake nodded, “I need to talk to all of them before they leave. They don’t know about vampires. They should be told.”

Tsu’tey’s head tilted. “They are eager to return. You do not have a lot of time, and Neytiri mentioned it would be hard for them to believe you.”

Jake considered his words for a moment. “Would you help me? They know that you are a serious and fierce warrior and unlikely to joke and… well you’ve seen two vampires yourself.”

Tsu’tey’s expression turned somewhat into a frown but he reflected his words. “I can if it’s required.”

“Thank you.”

Getting the hungry and tired groups together took longer than Jake planned, and they sat waiting in a ring near the spiral for the last of the dregs to arrive. Jake sat in his chair, Tsu’tey standing tall beside him as they waited.

“What’s this about, Jake?” Harper yawned, “I wanna go home.”

“I’ve got something to say and…it’s…kinda important for the long-term knowledge.” Jake started, “it…sort of needs an open mind from all of you.”

There was a non-committed, tired confirmation from them as a whole.

“So, Kim and Jerome know about this,” Jake started, seeing the realising cross over the two avatars quickly before Kim rolled her eyes in exasperation, Jerome just…stood there awkwardly. “They don’t really believe and I’m not asking you to believe me either but…as a culture, we’ve been led to believe that myths and stories are just fictional and that…some things don’t exist when…they do.” He started, “So, I will say this thing is real because on Earth I saw shit in the war that validated this thing’s existence, Morgan himself got attacked in Hell’s Gate about it and I’ve seen all evidence on a few people.”

“What is going on here?” Eytukan appeared, eyeing their overly large group forming up. “Is there a problem to be resolved? You are due to return back to your camps, are you not?”

“They are, Eytukan. But Jake is simply informing the new sky people about the blood demons that live in the sky people's village before they go.” Tsu’tey spoke suddenly.

Eytukan nodded softly in understanding. “Now?”

“Blood demon?” Mingxia cocked her head, her voice more of a whisper as she proposed the question to her group. “What the fuck is that?”

“Your people call them Vampires,” Tsu’tey answered as if it was obvious.

The looks of disbelief were immediate, making Jake groan internally at their blatant dismissive nature. Though Jake noted a little of how Ashley’s ears pinned back uncertainly though Kendra’s face lost all colour and tensed up.

Eytukan looked a little surprised at their reaction then seemed to snort in amusement. “Interesting, you do not believe so easily?”

Tsu’tey shorted a little. “<Morons.>”

Jake gave Tsu’tey a soft look, understanding enough to know what he said.

“Jake, please tell me you didn’t convince these people that they actually exist,” Harper sighed. “Vampires are fictional.”

Ashely made an odd noise in the back of her throat, coming to fiddle the end of her tail in her blue fingers. “Not…well, I wouldn’t dismiss it.”

Harper and a few others looked to their camp mate in surprise, “Wait, you believe him?”

Ashely’s ears turned pink, “Look… I saw a few weird things with no context and… I do. Kinda.”

“What weird thing?” Eytukan asked before any of the others could talk her down. “I am interested to know how these beings are living among your kind so silently and with little notice.”

Ashely dropped her tail. “Well, the main thing I sorta remember was…after I got stabbed. I was found by a pilot, Socorro. I was a little out of it but…she got Dr Augustine to help. They must have thought I was too out of it to remember. The pilot’s eyes were like…a black. She used to have brown eyes yet they like…blacked out.” She said, her tail swishing anxiously.

“Entirely or just the iris?” Jake asked.

“Just the iris.” Ashly said, “But… I mostly remember how cold their hand were. Augustine had to hold my neck to keep the blade from slippin’, you see. There might have been some hissing, I think I may have seen some sharp teeth but… I can’t fully recall the details. I didn’t know what I was seeing.”

“You were bleeding out, hallucinations aren’t uncommon.” Harper pointed out dryly.

“What would make you believe?” Jake asked, “Like, Morgan’s got a few bites. I’m sure he can show it to you for proof.”

Morgan squirmed a little to be in the limelight of the uncertain gaze.

“I have seen them myself. You would not call me a liar now, would you?” Tsu’tey spoke.

There was no comment, but uncertainly and some natural disbelief remained in a few of their eyes.

“Wait, I have an idea…” Kendra stood up and pulled a torch from her belt, one of three she had then stepped around the group towards the former soldier. “Where?”

“What are you doing?” Morgan asked wearily, eyeing the torch

“Looking for proof, now show me, boy.” She asked, though a little impatient.

Morgan glowered but nonetheless shrugged off his vest and leaned his head to the side. It took a second to see before they noticed the reflection across the skin in how the light caught the scars. The bites seemed to reflect almost silvery against Morgan’s dark skin, the one along his neck and shoulder were more prominent of course but…Jake realised that it wasn’t just two scars that lined his skin. If you didn’t include the bite set (like top and lower jaw), then there were at least seven more marks that lingered as she shone the light further across and checked the other side of his neck and shoulders.

“Oh…fuck.” Ashley winced, a little taken back, “Okay, yep that’s nasty.”

“Guys?” Morgan looked worried, “How many times was I bitten? What do you see?”

“A few,” Jake said tightly, glad that one of the others in the group had shut up and looked far more seriously.

Both Tsu’tey and Eytukan watched with a more weary eye.

“They must be venomous, and from…my assumption since I found this out last week, is that the venom contains a fluorescent molecule that lingers in human flesh. Humans have things in our own biology that glow under black light like saliva or blood, so not foreign enough that our bodies don’t break it down. The skin scars have been healed but…the scars of their bites are otherwise still present, even if we can’t see them.” Kendra summarised, though to prove her point, she turned the light to her own neck which showed a horrifying litter of bite marks that disappeared down clothes.

No one was laughing. No one was dismissive. Just shocked silence as Kendra shone the light onto Harper next who squeaked as at learning least three bites were on her neck, one on her left forearm close to her elbow.

“What is that light?” Eytukan asked, following along as Kendra continued to check everyone over.

“Blacklight. Like Na’vi, there’s a visual spectrum of light that we can and cannot see. UV light is a light a little out of our visual spectrum though your people would see it more clearly than us. If we lit a room with UV light or this version of UVA; the black light, the room would look dark to us. UV light can be reflective off certain things. Biological things can…reflect into our visual spectrum when in contact with UV light. Blood, saliva…other bodily fluids than show up in this light as well.” Kendra explained to the chief.

“Oh, come on!” Nadine groaned as a few marks shone up on her flesh arm and shoulder “Me?!”

Jake leant into the light when she got to him with it, allowing her to check his neck and arms though she had to double-check before she answered, “You’re clear. No bites.”

“Oh, good.” Jake felt a swell of relief; he hadn’t been someone’s snack, ever. What a relief. Still, he could pity the others a little. That was one nasty wake-up call to the reality of their monsters.

“Hey, why’s he clear and we’re not?” Nadine asked, looking a little offended.

“To be fair, he has—relatively speaking— just arrived at Pandora” Morgan pointed out, thumbing grumpily over an invisible scar. “Piped up on cryo drugs no doubt, no one wants a snack from that. You’ve been in Hell’s Gate for years. ”

“Lucky ass.” One of the group complained.

“So, I hope that’s enough proof to believe me,” Jake said, glad for one for this discovery; that should shed away disbelief in case anyone else came. “Right now—“

“Oh, what the fuc—What is that!”

Heads turned to see Zane under the light and while he too wasn’t spared the bites, it was the skeletal hand on the back of his flesh one that threw Kendra off.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! It’s my tattoo!” Zane laughed, “It’s a UV Tattoo. It only shows up under UV light.”

“Why didn’t you mention it before?! You freaked me out!”

“I forgot! I can’t see it and I’ve been busy!”

Jake sniggered a little, the tension easing a little. “As I was saying, it’s a lot to process so let’s take today to process this. You can ask questions when we next meet up. But… this is something you need to be aware of. We don’t know how long they’ve been in Hell’s Gate for but we know that they’re using secrecy to keep the peace and eat undisturbed. We don’t want that secret to be spilled—”

“We don’t?!” Harper scoffed, shaking her head. “

“If Hell’s Gate finds out, then the vampires can leave then we’re on the menu. We’re not so protected. The Na’vi cannot protect us against these creatures. So, if you have garlic cloves in your supplies, get them growing then we can trade with them.”

“We have some garlic, and some other root veg” Ruby spoke, “I hate working with garlic. So much fucking paperwork to get into the damn cloves.” She mimed the peeling process with distaste as she got to her feet, tugging Zane up to his feet.

With a dismissing word from Eytukan, the group got up and began to disperse to their rides home.

“Thank you,” Jake added to Tsu’tey mostly.

Tsu’tey’s head nose, curtly nodding. “You are welcome, Jakesully.”

Masterlist

#avatar #avatar au #grace augustine #avatar james cameron #avatar the way of water #jake sully #mo'at #neytiri #avatar rda #norm spellman #vampire #vampire au #vampire grace #neytiri te tskaha mo'at'ite #tsu'tey #eytukan

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blogbyblondie · 1 year

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boy sick vs. girl sick

11/16/22

There seems to be a pattern between boys and girls in how they respond to things. A phrase I use often is “girl sick vs boy sick,” which I use to show how girls respond with a much stronger front to things like being sick, feeling unwell, and pain in general, whereas men immediately crumple and need to be coddled and cared for. I see this pattern everywhere, and in my own life too, whenever a woman is starting to get sick she’ll mention it to her partner, as a way to ask for support or at least an expression of sympathy, and she’ll likely be greeted with “Oh I’m getting sick too,” or some other complaint about the latter’s health.

So then, when the woman is actually sick, she is required to carry on, business as usual, until she absolutely can’t, or until, if the universe aligns, there was a pre-scheduled time for rest where she can recuperate (i.e. bank holidays, school breaks, etc.) And, not only is she required to care for herself, making as much extra consideration for her illness as she can allow, but she must care for her partner by either making or picking up food, grocery shopping, helping him with all of his interpersonal issues, and, if he did in fact decide he was *cough* sick *cough* she’d have to provide him extra care to accommodate his illness.

But, if the man were ill, he would tell her he was sick and she would not just extend immediate sympathy, but she would get right to work to make it better. She’d run him a hot shower or warm bath, make/get his favorite food, make sure he was hydrated, and when he took off from work and/or school, she’d make sure he’d be comfortable at home. She’d even do all the little things like leave medicine where he could easily grab it, always get the tv remote and leave it close by, and take out the dog.

It’s like Kristin Scott Thomas’ monologue from Fleabag, “Women are born with pain built in. It’s our physical destiny: period pains, sore boobs, childbirth, you know. We carry it within ourselves throughout our lives, men don’t. They have to seek it out, they invent all these gods and demons and things just so they can feel guilty about things, which is something we do very well on our own. And then they create wars so they can feel things and touch each other and when there aren’t any wars they can play rugby. We have it all going on in here inside, we have pain on a cycle for years and years and years…”

I don’t even identify as a woman, I identify as non-binary, but there’s something so innately true about this to every person with a uterus. We are born with pain built in.

#sick #chronicallyill #chronicillness #pots #dysautomnia #spoonie #spoon theory #boys vs girls #sexism #fleabag

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wolf-and-bard · 3 years

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The Geraskier dark academia AU of my dreams (because writing these up keeps me sane; TLDR at the bottom because this escalated):

-Jaskier is so ready for college. Like, the readiest he's ever been for anything in his life. He couldn't wait to get out of his stuffy family home, away from his narrow-minded hometown, he is ready. He signs up for a Liberal Arts major, moves into a dorm, drinks his brains away during the first week. He makes an archnemesis, he makes friends, he live-documents the whole affair on Snapchat for his friend Triss who lives across the country, but is always with him in spirit. Life is good.

-Jaskier doesn't think twice when his roommate Zoltan invites him to come along to a party at the Kaer Morhen fraternity house because hello? Orientation week was last month, high time he goes to an actual frat party full of guys like wardrobes that eminate sexual self-assuredness and hopefully some sexual flexibility as well. He puts on his most revealing shirt and too tight jeans and joins Zoltan. The fraternity house is old, red-brick with sandstone pillars and iron-wrought gates which would seem rusty if not for the ivy that curls around them. It's chock-full with people of every kind of major and age, most of them drunk beyond reason by the time Jaskier and Zoltan arrive. Zoltan disappears in a tangle of rugby-players and leaves Jaskier to his own devices. He befriends a group of Archeology majors, their leader being a cute blond called Filavandrel, and they share a bottle of red wine, round and round. He meets his archnemesis, the one he spent all orientation week bickering about music with, Valdo or some nonsense, and they do tequila shots. It’s a nice party and Jaskier has the time of his life until he returns from the bathroom to find a god of a guy standing in the hallway.

-"Oh hello," Jaskier mutters under his breath. Before, his evening was aimless, he let the wave of the vibe take him wherever, let the alcohol blur the world around him. But now, he has an objective. And that objective stands all by his lonesome, scowling down the hallway. Man, does he brood well. Jaskier usually goes for people that are easy to read if some casual fun is what he has in mind -and it's not out of his mind just yet - but this guy intrigues him; there is more to him than simple dudebro-ness. He has shock-grey hair and startling amber eyes and seems to cast the longest shadow. Jaskier wants to ride him. Jaskier also wants to serenade him on a starlit wooden bridge and collect all the guy's deepest secrets and desires to keep under his pillow and draw divine inspiration from. Okay, that may be the Tequila shots talking. He scurries over to the bar, downs another two, then approaches the guy.

-"Hi," Jaskier says as he sidles up to him. The guy half-heartedly raises his beer in greeting. Taciturn, dark, dramatic. Jaskier decides to go for it. "I absolutely adore the way you just stand here and brood." (Jaskier will only learn much much later that he accidentally used some weird Kaer Morhen frat code and set off a chain of events that changed his life forever). "Lamb," the guy calls out instead of answering, something that makes Jaskier think he's so far gone that he's actively hallucinating. But no, seconds later a guy with equally lush red hair and equally thick arms appears from the crowd. He wears a scowl which has Jaskier's throat tighten. "What is it, Wolf?" Wolf, huh? "Go collect Goat and Kitty-Cat. I found him." And Wolf-Guy grabs Jaskier by the back of the neck and hauls him through a door, down some stairs - is that marble? are those torches? GARGOYLES? - and into pitch blackness. Jaskier squeals. This is what he imagined when he dreamt of college. Well not exactly this, but close enough.

-They bind him with silk scarfs and put a blindfold over his eyes which, okay. Jaskier knows he shouldn't find this as sexy as he does, but he can't help it. He has no sense of self-preservation and this will just be the best of fuel for the first assignment in his screenwriting class. "Oh, this is fun," he murmurs when someone tugs off his boots and someone else smears a fatty paste onto his lips. It smells like... okay it smells lot like his uncle Matthew's pigsty. Weirdly disgusting. "Who are you guys anyway?"

-They don't speak at all that night, don't take off the blind-fold until way later. All night, Jaskier can hear them rustling around him, chanting in some language he doesn't understand. They give him several drinks, most of which honestly taste like asphalt, but make his insides go fuzzy. When the blindfold comes off eventually, Jaskier finds himself on the front-seat of a pick up truck, Wolf guy behind the wheel. They are parked behind the frat house. "Look, I don't think you're a suitable candidate. The guys all said they want to keep you, but my friend recognized you from the freshman introduction party and we usually only inaugurate sophomores." Jaskier blinks. He has absolutely no idea what's going in anymore. His friend Triss is probably worried sick because he hasn't checked in all evening. The faint taste of burned rubber clings to his lips and all Jaskier can think is: Fuck, is this man hot. "Go out with me," he blurts. "Go out with me, I'll show you how suitable I am."

-Over the course of a month's worth of introductions, preparation and inauguration traditions (which, among other things, have him dropped butt-naked in the middle of the forest, requiring him to find his way back to campus; have him spend more time learning long-dead languages than he is comfortbale with; have him getting thoroughly intimate with Eskel's (Goat) helper syndrome, Lambert (Lamb) and Aiden's (Kitty-Cat) ostentatiously loud fucking, Coen's (Hawk) frequent absences and Geralt's (Wolf) quiet, but passionate idealism) Jaskier learns the truth at the core of Kaer Morhen. It is more than a fraternity, it is a brotherhood of students that spend their free time in rituals to protect the college, its city, likely even the whole state from supernatural creatures that threaten to cross over into the world. The existence of these is no surprise to Jaskier who's come out of an adolescence of escapism and coping through fiction and song, but the fact that there are handsome tough guys who work to banish him is too much of a dream to be true. It is true. Unofficially, the call themselves Witchers. They catch wraiths in cricles of runes, they re-direct necrophages into Kaer Morhen's basement and slay them with blades of silver. They brew potions and cast minor spells to get rid of mutated insectoids. And Jaskier is to be one of them. They call him Lark.

-His first ritual goes bat-shit wrong. Jaskier is reasonably sure he did everything right, but the wraith doesn't stay contained after they bound it . "Fuck," Geralt growns after, pressing a cloth to the gaping wound in Jaskier's shoulder while they wait for Eskel to whip out the first aid kit. Jaskier shudders, can taste blood. "There shouldn't be fireflies here, right?" - "Ah, nope," Lambert says. He keeps snapping his fingers before Jaskier's eyes. "Hey, Lark, stay with us, okay?" - "He's fine," Aiden says, inspecting his nails. "If anything, it's Geralt we should be worried about. He's about to have a full blown panic attack." Geralt grunts and holds Jaskier closer.

-"Does this mean I can ask Priscilla to let me copy her homework," Jaskier asks later. He's in bed, bundled up in one of Kaer Morhen's bedrooms. Portraits of alumni line the wall and a hearth crackles away. Geralt sits next to the bed, a pretense-book on his lap. His eyes bore into Jaskier, wide, haunted. "Jask," he breathes out shakily. - "Hello, big guy. How are we doing?" - "Better now that you're awake. We... we had to call in Vesemir. He will want to talk to you." - "Alright, okay," Jaskier says. He knows who Vesemir is of course, but he has no idea what exactly his job entails or what having to talk to him means. "Geralt?" - "Hmm?" - "What did I do wrong?" - "Nothing. You were uncharacteristically precise... but it turns out I was right all along. You're not suited for this kind of work." - "Because I'm not big and buff like all of you?" Jaskier asks, pouting. Geralt has the audacity to laugh. But he also takes Jaskier's hands and kisses his knuckles and huh? What? Jaskier's brain short-circuits. Fuck when did he fall so hard for Geralt? "No, Jask, you're perfect. I mean, uh, ah, perfectly annoying." That bastard. "The wraith went crazy because it turns out you're an amplifier. That means supernatural creatures are pulled to you and can draw from you to manifest easier in our world. You wouldn't have noticed this unless you ever passed by a spot where the spheres overlap significantly. As it is, your participation in the ritual poses a danger." - "TLDR: I'm fired?" - "That's for Vesemir to decide... truth be told, I don't want you to go. But I can't stand the thought of you being in danger. Because of me, this." - "Go out with me, Geralt. Please. One coffee," Jaskier practically begs. Yes, his shoulder is minced meat and he feels exhausted from the blood loss but Geralt has never been this open and honest with him. "...fine."

-Jaskier heals up under the diligent care of his friends. Priscilla is allowed over too, practically drags him though his classes with tutoring and copies of her homework and sugar-coated emails to his various professors. Triss video-calls him three times a day. Eskel's med school expertise leaves Jaskier with the most neat scar he is ever going to get out of this, Lambert and Aiden hang out to play Gwent with him, a strange card game they invented and custom-painted, Coën even pops in to bring Jaskier his guitar and a venti Matcha Tea Latte even though the nearest Starbucks is miles away. Geralt... Geralt is there almost all the way. He sleeps in the chair at first, then - on Jaskier's stern insistence - in the bed with him, though careful to keep his distance. He helps Jaskier into the shower, something so strangely intimate without feeling innately sexual, he takes him out on slow walks. Geralt doesn't talk much, but Jaskier knows he feels responsible. It's fine. Sure. Absolutely fine. Jaskier is so far gone for this man by the time he moves back into his own dorm that he considers getting injured again just to have Geralt by his side. They never do go out for coffee.

-Vesemir doesn't so much invite Jaskier as have him called out of his choir session by a girl about Jaskier's age. She has the same hair color as Geralt and Jaskier thinks he's seen her around Kaer Morhen's bigger parties. "Hello, Jaskier," she says sweetly, but one look at her tells Jaskier she's deadlier than any of the frat boys. If his drunk memory serves correctly she also does a phenomenal keg stand. "Ves sends me to collect you." Which has Jaskier even more impressed with her. None of the boys dare to call him anything but Vesemir or Sir, even when he's not around. - "I've been expecting this," Jaskier says, shouldering his bag. The girl laughs and grabs his arm to guide him out of the building and across campus. - "You are cute," she says. "Geralt said so, but I thought that was just because he's so infatuated with you. I'm Ciri, by the way, his younger sister." Infatuated, huh? Jaskier has just enough brainspace left to save her name. Ciri. They will have to become very good friends. Infatuated.

-It turns out, Vesemir isn't half as scary as the boys made him out to be. He's closer to sixty than fifty, has a stern face, but a kindly voice and the first thing he does after dismissing Ciri with a meaningful glance is offer Jaskier a glass of whiskey. Jaskier sneaks a photograph of the bottle's label when Vesemir stands at the window and glances down at the campus, hands clasped behind his back. Triss will never believe this. It's the sort of alcohol that exists only in myth, at least to college students. "So, Mr. Pankratz. I'm afraid apologies are in order." - "Please, I prefer Jaskier." - "I know," Vesemir says and turns. "I would kindly ask you to delete that picture, my office and its contents fall under the terms of the non-disclosure agreement you signed when entering our brotherhood." Jaskier gulps heavily, the whiskey suddenly sour on his tongue. But he's quick to paste over a smile. He's gotten this far with the mysterious Kaer Morhen fraternity, he can pull all the way through. He deletes the picture. "Good," Vesemir says. "Now down to business." Vesemir gives him two options. Jaskier can consult a local magical artisan and have his memories of Kaer Morhen's true purpose removed. It is an easy procedure, won't cost him anything. Except for his new-found friends and the love he feels for Geralt. Except for the only place he's ever truly felt at home. Jaskier chooses the latter option which is to become the fraternity's chronicler.

-After that, things are supposed to calm down and they do, for a bit. Geralt still dodges any and all attempts Jaskier makes at flirting even though it's evident his resolve is thinning out. Jaskier observes and documents the rituals, begins to collect old notebooks. He's planning to go above and beyond his job and compile a comprehensive history of Kaer Morhen and its members before he's graduated. He may not be able to partake in the rituals or help the guys protect this city from monsters, but he can play his part. Leave behind a legacy.

-Between that and his normal studies, hanging out with his theater group, meeting Triss on alternate weekends and throwing epic frat parties, all of Jaskier's time is consumed. There are several instances in which Geralt and him almost manage to have their coffee, but then they have Eskel on the phone because Lambert and Aiden managed to give themselves poisoning over a simple Endrega job, or Priscilla needs an emergency stand-in for her weekly performances at a local bar, or Jaskier is simply too tired and falls into bed, sleeping over Zoltan's aggressive snoring. Jaskier doesn't mind so much. They catch glimpses of intimacy, Geralt's hand on the small of his back as he guides him downstairs for another ritual, a good night kiss on the cheeks once it's done, a spot of quiet homework-doing in Kaer Morhen's common room together, their legs pressed close under the table. One of these days, Jaskier will find the courage to close the last bridge between them. He just wants to wait until Geralt seems absolutely comfortable with it.

-All is as well as can be until Vesemir comes up with an idea. Because more and more creatures have been getting through and they are unable to hold off all, he wants to capture one of them, an Archgriffin, to bind in their world and act as guardian against lesser creatures. "You're mad," Aiden says. "That's fucking brilliant." - "It's a good idea," Eskel and Coën agree. Lambert keeps exchanging grim glances with Geralt because they both know what this means. They will have to use Jaskier to lure the beast. Which is why they both protest the idea heavily and Geralt gets into a fight with Vesemir. Jaskier is not there for it, but Aiden and Lambert tell him later, once he's back from theatre rehearsal. He watches them fight over it too and then it's only him and Lambert. Jaskier steals one of Zoltan's bottles of spirits and they get stupidly drunk, wandering around campus all night until Eskel collects them and tucks them into bed at Kaer Morhen. "I will not stand to lose you," Lambert slurs, arm dragged over Jaskier's chest. "You're like, almost my best friend. Plus, Wolf would be devastated." - "Aiden seems to think it'll be fine," Jaskier says, snuggling up to Lambert. - "Yeah, fuck him." They fall asleep like that and the first thing Geralt does when he finds them is kick Lambert all the way down the stairs.

-In the end, Geralt and Lambert are outvoted, not that they can stop Vesemir. Geralt is more silent than usual throughout prep and Jaskier can't seem to cheer him up. He knows his life is likely on the line, but he wants to help so badly. These guys are his family after all. If he can make their lives a little easier by doing this... well, he wants to. He needs to. Being in Kaer Morhen is the first time he seems to have a purpose other than writing angsty teenage songs. Eskel keeps checking up on him. Vesemir writes preliminary excuses for all Jaskier's exams which leave him with only A's, something Priscilla does not appreciate in the slightest. Lambert and Aiden fight and fight and won't stop fighting over this whole affair until Jaskier sits them down and makes them talk. Geralt... remains quiet. Jaskier can tell he doesn't sleep. Can tell he rarely eats. He decides now is as good a time as ever.

-It's the night before and the others have all returned to their dorms, but Jaskier stayed in Kaer Morhen under the pretext of Zoltan having his girlfriend over, and Geralt rarely ever goes home. He has a flat off campus, but Jaskier suspects it's drab and lonely. He gets it. Kaer Morhen has soft fluffly beds and fire places and wards and books. Currently, it has the two of them, bundled up in one of the upstairs rooms. They share an armchair before a low fire, not an unusual sight for them, not anymore. And still, Geralt pretends they're just friends. It's ridiculous. "You know I'll be fine, right?" Jaskier says. He has his head tucked under Geralt's chin and has been humming show tunes under his breath for the last half hour, something that usually puts Geralt right to sleep. Not so now. "I can't know that," Geralt replies. He lifts Jaskier's hand which he's been holding and traces the veins on the back of it with his thumb. "You've no idea how dangerous the ritual is. Even more so with you being an amplifier." - "So protect me." - "I will. I promise, I will." - "Geralt, when are you going to finally give in?" Jaskier sighs and pulls back a little. Geralt stares at him, a little cross-eyed and Jaskier gives a shaky laugh. "I'm going to kiss you now. Pull back if you don't want to, but allow it and I'll never let you go." Geralt allows it, kisses back. It's the first night they indulge in a love that has been growing for almost a year and it's gloriously sweet, blazing, beautiful. It leaves Jaskier with faith that, even if things go sideways, Geralt will get them both out of it alive.

-The ritual goes well thanks to the Witchers' meticulous preparations, the dozen or so warding spells they put on Jaskier and Geralt's reflexes that save him from a swipe of the Griffin's claw. They bind the creature to one of the basement holding cells and celebrate with excessive amoutns of vodka and cake. "All is well that ends well, huh?" Jaskier asks from where he sits on Geralt's lap. Strong arms hold him and his chest is full of nightingales that flutter and sing. He watches Eskel drunkenly dance-offing with Coen in a corner, watches Lambert and Aiden make out in another. Vesemir took off, but Ciri is there, lounging next to them on the couch, nose buried in her phone. "I will never put you through such danger again," Geralt grunts, his nose buried in Jaskier's hair. "Of course, love." Jaskier relaxes into the embrace. All is well, though it is not nearly the end of this story.

-TLDR: Kaer Morhen is an occultist fraternity that keeps supernatural beings away from campus. Jaskier, unable to participate in the actual rituals due to a genetic predisposition, becomes their chronicler. Geralt worries a lot. Jaskier tries for the longest time to get him to go on a coffee date or something. Lambert and Aiden are a disaster couple. Eskel keeps them all together, literally and figuratively. Ciri is the one who got all the brain cells.

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deepstheeskimo · 4 years

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‘The Power of Four’

Right, everyone is picking Lions squads with less than a year to go until the next South Africa tour is meant to happen. Only so much brainpower I want to put into considering the pros and cons of scrummaging abilities though so I’ve gone for the Deeps Cult Lions XV made up of past tourists from of the last 20 or so years.

1. Allan Dell. What better way to start than with a South African born Scottish prop that only got called up as part of the ‘geography six’? In the squad: Andrew Sheridan (built like one of those GM bulls) and Tom Smith (badly underrated player,

2. Keith Wood. The ragin’ potato. Came to Quins and inspired a character in the first ‘book’ I wrote aged 8. Weird obsession with belly buttons, understandable obsession with trying drop goals from 40 metres. In the squad: Shane Byrne (1- mullet 2- not actually very good) and Andy Titterrell (Pro Rugby Manager 2 legend and extremely small man)

3. Kyle Sinckler. Why? He’s my guy, that’s why. He’s the opposite of that ruddy faced, sweaty tweed rugger culture. He makes me smile. In the squad: Jason Leonard (The Fun Bus. Non-playing tour captain. Once ruffled my hair - give him all the ale he can drink.) and Adam Jones (The Hair Bear. My sister used to see him all the time in Neath Tesco - give him all the pic n mix he can eat).

4. Martin Johnson. Looks like a character from a Guy Ritchie film, universally loathed by opponents and taped up his fingers(??). Summed up by the saying ‘Last time I saw a mouth like that it had a hook in it’. In the squad: Paul O’Connell (has some weird mythical power about him. Came to Quins with Munster and made south west London echo with ‘fields of Athenry’) and Simon Shaw (his emotional final interview post 2009 third test, aged 37, was pretty special)

5. Doddie Weir. Could not be anyone else. Farmer strength. Permanently looked 20. Built for Lions tours. Still fighting the good fight. Go on big man. In the squad: Nathan Hines (perma-suspended and a ‘tartan wallaby’) and Maro Itoje (Sometimes it’s not all about drinking and bungee jumping. Itoje’s one of the few that would be able to have an actual conversation)

6. Peter O’Mahony. One of those players that always grows into a series and ends up being important. Entirely unremarkable player but must be nasty to play against. Can’t actually imagine he’s that nice to be around at all. Big ‘school bully’ vibes. In the squad: Richard Hill (the only one of England’s 2003 RWC forwards that didn’t vote Brexit) and Alan Quinlan (Hit form at the right time, finally being picked in 2009 after a good but near-miss career. Expresses immense pride in selection. Then gouges someone. 12 week ban. If that’s not a cult player then I’m not sure what is).

7. Sean O’Brien. Another one with farmer strength. Thick in the arm, thick in the head but unlike a lot of the others won’t ever let you down. Plus on a tour you need characters and I bet, deep deep deep down he’s actually got a personality. Well, maybe. In the squad: Martyn Williams (a face that belongs in a back office of a mid sized electronics company. Somehow helped to invent modern rucking) and Sam Warburton (picked only so I can annoy people by saying his name as War-burrton’ not ‘Wabatan’ as they seem to say. Also looks like an Easter Island statue)

8. Scott Quinnell. Just rugby league all over. Overweight, comedy accent, illegal use of a plaster cast on his arm, despicable post-career lad culture DVDs and even had a stint on Soccer AM. If you kick him, all the Quinnells walk with a limp. In the squad: Ryan Jones (about the only player to come out of 2005 with credit) and Andy Powell (body of a god, brain of, erm... Great on tour as he’s a six foot five version of that kid in school you could make do anything by saying ‘oh go on!’)

9. Chris Cusiter. Born in Aberdeen which obvs piques my interest. Somehow got called up aged 22 while playing for the ill-fated Border Reivers. Played in Scotland, England, France and Australia and now lives in California running a whiskey retailing business. International. In the squad: Matt Dawson (over the head dummy try) and Austin Healey (absolutely horrible grinding shithouse). The two of these would be encouraged to collaborate on deliberately provocative articles similar to what they wrote in 2001.

10. Jonny Wilkinson. The best player of all time. Note to self, don’t hang around him too much because you’ll look pathetic and probably annoy him. In the squad: Mike Catt (Utility back. My fave) and Finn Russell (Joué Joué 🍷)

11. Ugo Monye. A huge part of my weekends for about 10 years was getting excited every time he touched the ball. Top scorer on his one Lions tour, shock. In the squad: George North (need a scapegoat for when we lose 49-0 to Japan in a warm up game) and Jack Nowell (wouldn’t play a single game, only being taken to let the squad mock him and call him a yokel - bet he’s got a dead short fuse).

12. Rob Henderson. Looked like, acted like, presumably ate like and definitely played like that guy from your local club who played England U16s and let it get to his head. And gut. Crash ball. In the squad: Scott Gibbs (hefty) and Gavin Henson (Insane talent, probably got good stories and even if he’s a prick he’s nicer to look at than some of the other options).

13. Ollie Smith. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Life gave Sir Clive Woodward the entire player pool of Britain and Ireland and somehow he picked Ollie Smith. In my team because he just looks like a nice guy. Defo pro-HS2 and his dad would pick up the bar tab. In the squad: Brian O’Driscoll (meh, guess he gets a place) and Will Greenwood (but only with bleach blonde hair. He genuinely almost died on the pitch playing for the Lions, looks like Shaggy and is a rarity in being a Lions player selected while playing Championship rugby).

14. Dan Luger. Always looked like he’d just come off a 10 hour shift at B&M. Even made skintight shirts look baggy. Played for Perpignan and Toulon before it was cool. Tryscoring machine. Injury prone as fuck. In the squad: John Bentley (so long as he isn’t a massive sexist like on the 1997 documentary) and Christian Wade (I will never forgive rugby union for wasting his talent).

15. Neil Jenkins. Ol’ dependable. Looks like a man off the street. Can imagine he’s almost always terrified around these peacocking ‘alpha males’. In the squad: Tim Stimpson (remember him?) and Iain Calamity Balshaw (Brendan Laney never played Lions so he’s there to mess everything up instead)

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owlish-peacock36 · 5 years

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A Piece of Home: A Christmas One-Shot

I hope everyone has had a wonderful Christmas!

Claire had a theory: whatever deity presided over this world was out to get her. Plain and simple. Bad luck followed her, like an unnerving shadow. Perhaps she had walked under too many ladders in a past life. Perhaps it was a genetic disposition, like left handed-ness. Perhaps she was cursed.

Despite the reason, she knew herself well enough to know that her current situation shouldn’t have surprised her: flat tire, middle of nowhere, snow storm, Christmas Eve. It was a goulash of bad luck ingredients just simmering into a unfortunate evening. And, as unfortunes go, she was woefully unprepared. No spare. No tools. No hope.

Damn.

She was going to freeze to death in her car. Or, at least lose her fingers to frostbite. Whichever came first.

Her panic subsided as she remembered the invention of mobile phones.

Thank God.

Claire thrust her hand into the depths of the oversized pockets on her wool coat, fishing out said device. The metal was cool against her hand. Pressing the home button, her heart plummeted.

The phrase no service blinked up at her.

Shit.

She really was screwed.

***

Deep within her rational mind, Claire knew that there was a slim chance of her being stranded for long in her situation. The road she was on was less traveled, but not totally abandoned. It just seemed so for the lack of cars—owing to it being late Christmas Eve night—and the muffling snow.

Despite such knowledge, she could help the panic from settling into her throat. She began crawling about her car, raising her phone at awkward angles. But the no service did not disappear. Settling back into the driver’s seat, she began fiddling with the radio as a distraction.

“...I’m dreaming of a whi..”

“...On a one horse…”

“...Jack Frost nipping at your nose…”

“Excuse me!”

A knock at her window startled her, causing her heart to spasm within her chest.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!”

The man hovering beside her window was tall, handsome, and vaguely familiar. Claire rolled it down to get a better look.

“Hello?”

“It seems ye may need some help.”

Claire’s gazes roved over his face, from his auburn curls to his deep slanted eyes to his wide, good natured mouth.

“I know you…?”

A chuckle. “Aye. Yer Claire.”

“And you’re… from Professor Bailey’s class, right? The Literature Seminar.” A pause, as she searched her brain for the man’s name. “It’s James, isn’t it?”

“Aye,” he repeated. “But ye can call me Jamie.”

“Well, Jamie. I am in a bit of a sticky situation. You don’t happen to have a spare tire, do you?”

“Nay, I’m sorry.”

“Fuck!” Remembering her company, Claire clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”

But Jamie just laughed, his smile crinkling his eyes. “Nay worry. This is a bit of a fuck situation.”

“You got that right…”

“Here, let me help ye. My parent’s house isna verra far. That’s where I’m heading. Ye can call someone when ye get there.”

“That’s kind of you, Jamie, but—“

“Please. I dinna feel right leaving ye out in the cold.”

Claire sighed. “Thank you. That would be nice.”

***

The ride was almost silent. Although Jamie and Claire were acquainted through school, their knowledge of each other was limited. What they knew, they learned from others: Claire knew Jamie had a large family, played rugby as a teenager, and had a sensitive heart towards babies and animals. Jamie knew Claire wrote for the university newspaper, owned a cat, and loved the rain.

Everything else was in the realm of unknown. Claire broke the silence first.

“I don’t wish to ruin your Christmas Eve with your family.”

“Nonsense. Ye willna ruin Christmas. It’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t think your parents would be too pleased that you’re bringing a strange woman you rescued from the road to their house.”

“Honestly, I think they’ll just be happy I’m bringing a woman,” he teased. Claire stiffened. Would his parents think they were a couple? “Besides, yer no a strange woman. I ken ye, ye ken me. I was just at the right place at the right time.”

“If you’re sure…”

Jamie reached over, and patted her hand gently. It was a quick gesture—one of reassurance—but Claire couldn’t help the way her heart skipped a beat. He really was incredibly good-looking. His profile was strong, with an angular nose and a steel jaw. His deep red curls softened his severe features, lending him a more boyish charm. Claire could, quite honestly, stare at him all day.

“Aye, I’m sure.”

***

The house rose through the trees, the lights through the windows casting a dim glow on the surrounding land. It was large, retangular, and obviously old. Houses nowadays weren’t made like that, with faded gray stones and overgrown vines. With the strands of Christmas bulbs that outlined the roof and windows and the snow that covered the grass, it looked very much like a fairy tale.

“Wow.” Claire hadn’t meant to speak aloud, but the word exited her mouth in a breath.

“Aye, I ken. It’s quite a sight.”

“How old is it?”

“About 300 years, I think. It’s been in my family for so long. Lallybroch, we call it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Lazy tower. There’s a tower to the east, there.” His hands pointed into the darkness. “Ye canna quite see it now. It’s too dark.”

“How is it lazy?”

“It leans,” Jamie explained simply. “It’s been here as long as the house.”

“That’s amazing…” The history lover within her had some many questions, but she quelled them; she wasn’t planning on being here long enough to have them answered.

“Well, come on, then. Let’s get ye inside.”

***

If the outside of Lallybroch was exquisite, the inside was magical. Garland and poinsettias hung in the archways, as ceramic Christmas trees lined the tables. Jamie led her through the archway on the right.

“Mam? Da?”

The room was large and open, with a shiny cherry hardwood floor and a fireplace crackling. The pièce de résistance, though, was the eight foot Christmas tree in the center of the room. Lights shone from every crevice and branch, and tinsel swirled toward the top where a bright star rested. Claire had never had large Christmases, had never had much of a family to share it with. But here, she could see the appeal.

So distracted she was by the incredible decorations, she missed the figures huddled around the fire. Jamie’s family, she presumed.

“Jamie? Is that you?” A woman’s voice rang out.

“Aye, Mam.”

The woman stood from her place by the fire to greet them. As she came closer, Claire could see exactly where Jamie got his looks. Same hair, same pointed nose, same dimpled chin. She started when she realized Jamie wasn’t alone.

“And who might this be?”

“Oh, this is Claire. We go to university together. I found her on the road with a flat. Claire, this is my mam, Ellen.”

Claire gripped the woman’s smooth hand in her own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You have a beautiful home.”

“Oh, thank ye verra much!”

“Where’s Jenny?”

“Oh, she’s putting the bairns to bed. They couldna wait. Ready for Santa, and all that. Come, Claire. Ye should meet Jamie’s da.”

“Mam, Claire isna planning on staying long…”

“It’ll just be moment, aye? Come, dear.”

Claire obliged, following Ellen Fraser toward the fire where a larger figure sat. He was broad and black-haired, cropped close to his head. Jamie definitely looked like his mother, but he had his father’s eyes: slanted and cerulean.

“Brian, this is Claire. Claire, my husband Brian.” Brian Fraser’s face softened, a half smile lighting his face.

“Pleasure to meet ye, Claire. What can we do for ye?”

“She’s a classmate of Jamie’s, dear. He met her on the road with a flat tire.”

“Oh, no. Yer more than welcome to use our phone to call a ride if ye need. It’s just across the hall.”

“Thank you, sir.”

She on her heel, and left the room.

***

“She’s pretty, Jamie,” Ellen whispered conspiratorially.

“Mam…”

“And polite, too,” Brian interjected.

“Ye too, Da?”

“Aye, someone needs to push ye a bit.”

“Push me?”

“Mmhmmm. Is she no the Claire ye had a crush on last semester?”

“I...I…”

“Though so.” Brian went back to nursing his tumbler of whisky, having proven his point.

“Perhaps it is yer lucky night, mo mhac. A Christmas miracle of sorts.”

“Yer exaggerating, Mam. It isna like that.”

“No? But it could be.”

***

Closed. Every single tow company Claire called was closed. Of course she had to have a flat on Christmas Eve. How was she supposed to get home, now? Was Uber open?

“Any luck?” The voice startled her, her hand flying up to her chest to keep her heart in place.

“Jamie! You’ve got to stop surprising me!”

“Sorry.”

She giggled at his contrite expression. “It’s okay. And to answer your question, no. No luck at all. All the towing companies are closed.”

“Yeah. It is Christmas Eve. Do ye have family to call to pick ye up?”

“No. I don’t.” She could feel her face fall at the mention of family.

Apparently, Jamie saw it, too. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. It was a long time ago.”

A silence, awkward and deafening, filled the room. And then, suddenly: “We’ll have to share a family then.”

“Pardon?”

“No one should be alone on Christmas. Not even filthy-mouthed Sassenach such as yerself.” Jamie’s grin grew broader at his own teasing.

“No, no. I’m not going to impose…”

“Ye won’t be! My mam loves ye already!”

“She just met me!”

“Well, she’s a good judge of character.”

“You don’t even know me that well.”

“We can get to know each other, become friends. Anything is possible at Christmas.”

“I don’t know, Jamie.”

Claire could see the wheels turning in Jamie’s mind, his eyes alight with ideas. Finally, he stuck his hand out. “James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser. 6’4. Twenty-one years old. Taurus.”

His smile was infectious, and Claire could feel her lips rising in response. She grasped his hand. “Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. 5’6. Twenty-three years old. Libra.”

“Nice to meet ye, Claire.”

“You too, Jamie.”

The two walked out of the room, their hands still inexplicably twined. So intent on the other, they almost tripped over a small huddled form in the hallway.

“Wee Jamie! Are ye no supposed to be in bed?”

The little form uncurled revealing a small boy in Christmas pajamas. He looked up at the two with innocent brown eyes.

“Aye, Uncle Jamie. But I couldna sleep!”

“Too excited, hmm?”

“Aye! Santa!”

“Well, he won’t come until yer asleep.”

“I ken… Who is this?”

“Oh, this is my friend, Claire. Claire, this is my eldest nephew, Jamie Murray.”

Claire crouched to Wee Jamie’s eye level. “Nice to meet you. I like your PJs.”

The boy blushed sweetly. “Thank ye.” And, then, distractedly: “What’s that?” A small, chubby hand pointed to the ceiling above where Jamie and Claire stood. A small sprig was hung there by a red ribbon.

Mistletoe.

“It’s mistletoe, wee’un. If ye stand under with someone, ye have to kiss them…”

“Eww!” And with that, Wee Jamie ran away with the threat of kissing.

Claire turned to Jamie, cheeks pinkening. “Well, I suppose we shouldn’t break tradition…”

His eyes narrowed with desire. “Nay. That’s bad luck, I think.”

It was hesitant, slow. Achingly slow. Jamie placed a large hand on Claire’s cheek, holding her firmly in place. Claire’s arms wrapped around his middle, feeling the flannel of his shirt.

Lips brushed, quickly. A soft kiss. A chaste kiss that promised more.

Perhaps this Christmas wasn’t so unlucky after all.

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #a piece of home #jamie x claire #christmas au #christmas fic #one shot

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